


just hypothetically, you know?

by minorseventh



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coach!Christophe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:50:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10070108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minorseventh/pseuds/minorseventh
Summary: In an alternate universe where Yuuri is Christophe's up-and-coming star student, and Victor is bored of constantly winning gold medals;naturally, Chris has something special planned.





	1. in theory, it should all work out

The world was surprised when Christophe Giacometti retired from skating early on in his career. They barraged him with the rumor that he was overwhelmed by the sheer force of Victor Nikiforov as a higher-level opponent; they questioned whether he was looking for a career in ice entertainment; they almost guilt-tripped him into returning when they showed him video messages of crazy heartbroken fans. It was a tumultuous time, to say the least.

But now, as he watches his latest pupil execute a flawless step sequence on the ice, Christophe smiles behind a gloved hand. Sure, he wanted a break from the competitive struggle of second-best pedestal standings, and wished to try a few Art on Ice pair skates, but this was the reason: to bring the joy and love of skating to even more people.

And this kid, Katsuki Yuuri? He’s going places.

The first time Christophe watched the Japanese skater, it was after-hours at the Junior GPF. He was in awe of the young man’s careful grace. He watched as Yuuri landed obviously practiced quads (which was a rebelliousness he sympathized with), and didn’t realize that it was a replica of Victor Nikiforov’s exhibition piece from a couple seasons back until halfway through.

Christophe had walked up to the kiss and cry and offered to give Yuuri a few tips. Yuuri, after thoroughly freaking out, had shyly asked what his new mentor thought of his quads.

“Textbook perfect,” Christophe had replied. “Just like Victor’s.”

“That was the best compliment anyone could have ever given me,” Yuuri had said, with a small smile.

And just like that, Katsuki Yuuri had become Christophe’s star student, and began to vie straight for the rinks reserved for the best ice skaters on Earth.

*

Christophe _adores_ figure skating, obviously—always has and always will, but even he recognizes there’s a certain limit to how far you can take it, both mentally and physically.

And so he can tell when Victor Nikiforov’s in a bit of a slump. Sure, he’s still been winning gold after gold, but it’s become a monotone acceptance by now. The rest of the competitors have resorted to a silver standard, and those headlines are now more attention-grabbing than Victor’s constant chart toppers.

The thing is that Victor is bored. As a fierce competitor, he always needed that slight tease to get him going again, like contesting the podium with a brash up-and-coming fan favorite, or pursuing a quiet side affair to keep his passion on high. Right now, however, it seems like the poor man is wringing his hands in desperation to surprise his audience and in turn surprise himself.

Thus, Christophe’s newest bucket list endeavor is to see his friend and former competitor relocate some inspiration.

Luckily, he’s got just the clay to work with.

(You’re looking for the latest Nathan Chen to rise through the ranks to steal a Yuzu-equivalent’s 4CC title? If that’s the requirements, then so be it. At this point, Christophe believes he’s got it covered.)

*

“So, Yuuri, what do you think about dancing _off_ the ice?”

Yuuri looks up from his phone (Phichit has just sent 34 messages in the last ten minutes) to stare at his coach in confusion. “Um,” he manages, “I’ve never given it much thought."

“Right, but do you have, say, any ballroom dancing experience?”

“I took ballet for my form with Minako-sensei when I was younger, but I’ve never had, like, any waltz experience,” Yuuri says. “You’re not making me do another one of those crazy confidence showcases, are you?”

“No, no, no,” Christophe assures quickly. “I’m just asking… hypothetically.”

Christophe signs his student up for tango lessons.

(Later, when Yuuri finds it on his schedule, Christophe waves it off as a “Just getting a head start in case next season is your mambo season!”)

*

Victor gets second at the NHK Trophy.

His skating is flawless, but lacks the traditional Nikiforov spice. It's a bit bland, and Christophe knows the world champion can do better. Christophe starts to panic, just a little bit. He just needs a bit of time! Saving a global phenomenon from a downward spiral cannot just happen overnight!

*

Yuuri watches the nature documentary with cautious interest. It’s a series of animal mating rituals: peacocks, lions, and now flamingos.

“See anything that arouses you?”

Yuuri whips around, eyes completely indignant, to find Christophe monitoring his progress from the back of the room. “Why are you even making me watch this?”

“To discover your eros nature,” Christophe says, without hesitation.

“My _what_?”

“It’s purely hypothetical!” Chris says over his shoulder, leaving Yuuri alone and confused as the video keeps playing on his laptop screen.

*

“What type of drunk is Yuuri?” Phichit repeats. Christophe can see the Thai skater's smile in his mind’s eye from the other end of the line.

"Yeah," he says. "Just hypothetically. Like, meeting Victor while drunk hypothetically. I swear nobody's taking advantage of him or anything. But yeah... what type of a drunk is he?"

Phichit laughs. “I don’t know how to classify him. Um, probably like a wild one?”

“Could you specify? Since he says he can’t remember enough to tell me?”

Phichit laughs again, and says he has a few stories, complete with photographic evidence that he immediately texts his best friend’s coach. “Once, we were at this club, right, and this guy with silver hair comes up and asks Yuuri to dance…”

*

Victor pays no attention to the other five GPF contestants. He just plasters on an artificially fluorescent smile and poses for the throng of reporters. He isn’t even fazed by an arrogant youngster next to him in third who’s evidently trying to brag.

Christophe puts an arm around Yuuri and cheerfully waves at Victor, who’s as still as a mannequin.

At the last minute before the two exits the area, Victor waves back. It’s small, but it’s there, accompanied by a hint of natural curiosity.

*

“Oh, god no,” Christophe says. “We need to get you a new suit.”

Yuuri clutches his lapels protectively. “I like this one!”

“It doesn’t… fit you the way a well-tailored ensemble could. You have a figure skater’s body, and so you are obliged to show it off.”

“You were fine with this suit last month at that one announcement, weren’t you?”

“Was I?” Christophe makes a show of trying to remember. “Well, you’re in the public eye more than you were then, hm?”

Still, Yuuri looks unconvinced. “I don’t get why I need a nice new suit _just_ for this one banquet party.”

“Actually, I used to own the exact same tie,” Christophe suddenly points out. “We all do—it’s the free one from the Federation, right? I remember wearing it to some press conference. Victor took one look at it and wouldn’t speak to me until I took it off…”

Yuuri sheds the tie. He says something under his breath that sounds oddly like, "What type of outfit would Victor like?"

Christophe doesn't miss a beat. "Well, now that you ask, hypothetically..."

By the end of the impromptu shopping spree, even Yuuri has to admit he's looking fine.

*

Christophe's phone buzzes again. It’s a message from Victor, asking if he was going to attend the GPF banquet. _Didn’t you say you were coming? I really hope you are_ , he reads, hearing Victor’s annoyed voice in his head. _Everyone here is so boring!_

Okay, Mr. Nikiforov. Challenge accepted; game on.


	2. an expert in the field

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything’s going according to plan.
> 
>  
> 
> (The long awaited banquet scene.)

Christophe Giacometti is a genius. There’s no question about that. After all, he has orchestrated some of the most legendary milestones in figure skating history, like choreographing the winning free short program for last year’s Junior Grand Prix Champion, designing Victor Nikiforov’s most flattering outfits, and obviously winning a fair number of competition records. Even critics admit that his choice to begin a virtual skating community platform for aspiring artists would not be lost to time.

But it is only now, in the Grand Prix Final banquet hall, as he watches the beautiful scene unfolding before him, that Christophe truly believes he has ultimately crafted a masterpiece.

All eyes turn as his student, Katsuki Yuuri, walks up to the center of the room, looking positively stunning in his gorgeous new suit. (Poor lad has already voluntarily downed four flutes of champagne since he realized that the party Chris had dragged him to also features Victor Nikiforov, and is now considerably feeling more daring—loosened up, to say the least.)

Christophe hears his final words of encouragement to Yuuri replay in his own head, and his heartbeat is thumping in his ears. All these months of subconscious preparation: of extreme ballroom dance courses, of casual flirting tips, of pole dancing lessons… it must have paid off, right?

Like, seriously, Christophe had even designed an entire short program built around a… mildly suggestive theme to discover Yuuri’s hidden talents and motivations, and so this is obviously the final test (or first test, if everything goes to plan). Sure, while he was training Yuuri had obliviously declared that his end goal was to be the pork cutlet bowl to enthrall all men, but Chris knew it was leading up to the Nikiforov seduction, even if his student didn’t. He even planned the glorious costume similarities to subliminally set up this moment, and, well…

Yuuri calls out Victor’s name, puts a hand behind the man’s back, and smoothly dips him into a clean drop, slick as his matted hair. He leans in and whispers something in the other man’s ear, impossibly close, impossibly effortlessly, looking impossibly seductive.

Christophe can’t hear what his student is saying—in fact, knowing Yuuri, it could be anything from a bad pick-up line to dialogue straight out of _Love Actually_ —but he’s gotta admit: that dip was pretty suave. Even Chris can’t say he could definitely pull that off. Obviously, the tango classes must have worked.

Furthermore, Victor also looks like he’s basically ready to elope, so that’s a pretty good sign of things to come. Chris wishes he could frame the moment on his living room wall, right next to all his medals.

From his upside-down position, with his hair, image, and heart absolutely shattered beyond repair, Victor’s mouth falls open gracelessly. There are too many emotions playing out on his face, and it would be difficult for an inexperienced Nikiforov amateur to identify his feelings.

Chris, however, is an expert in that field. (They’ve been friends for so long by now that Christophe can even notice when Victor’s not satisfied with the ending pose of an otherwise stellar performance.) He realizes this is definitely a unique moment, especially for a guy whose mantra is to surprise others. And as Victor’s eyes land right on him, he simply relays a bemused expression, careful not to let his excitement show.

They should have some popcorn in here somewhere, right?

Without warning, Yuuri spins him back up to reality, drops onto one knee, and kisses Victor’s hand tastefully. He reaches up and brushes the fallen hair out of his idol’s eyes. “Would you care to have this dance with me, Victor Nikiforov?”

Victor looks like he has never before been so happy to hear his own name. He nods, wide-eyed and breathless, and Yuuri whisks him away onto the dance floor. The crowd parts easily; all onlookers have pulled out their phones. (Is that Evgenia Medvedeva somewhere in the mob fangirling to death? Well, nobody blames her—in fact, it’s rather relatable.)

Christophe watches the two laugh and trip over each other, re-enacting famous movie poses, twirling and spinning, thoroughly having the times of their lives.

There is no question in his mind that this incident will surely beat any of his former triumphs. People always say that giving makes one feel the happiest, and considering how Christophe has already dedicated so much of his effort to matching up his two favorite people on Earth, it’s safe to say that he has never felt this proud or happy before.

Actually, scratch that: the night gets even better once Christophe whips out the stripper pole. Everybody has to admit that Yuuri has an alternate career as a multi-faceted exotica dancer.

The expressions on Victor’s face are _priceless_.

*

It’s official: Christophe Giacometti is a genius.

Also a matchmaker, a romantic, the best coach, the best friend to the best skater… his biography list of achievements is getting longer by the minute. Best coordinator of the best dances, best perfectionist planner, best entertainment host… hopefully best man, someday… preferably in the near future…

In any case, Jane Austen’s Emma better move out of the way: Christophe Giacometti is in town.

*

He’s in the corner by the drinks, calmly nursing a martini, when Phichit walks over, with hands on his hips.

“You stole my job! I promised Yuuri that I’d be his wingman to help Victor fall in love with him someday!” Phichit cries.

Christophe laughs. “You did enough with those stories you provided me,” he says. “I’ll have to give you some credit for that.”

The two turn towards the center of the room and watch Yuuri one-up Victor in a dance-off that’s getting more intense by the minute. Phichit’s unabashedly recording the whole thing on his phone, but not before Christophe tells him it’s unfair to use true love as blackmail.

“Of course, now all that’s left is to find you the love of your life so that you know what it feels like,” Christophe tells Phichit. He scans the room, and notices a quite attractive if disinterested-looking skater at the edge of the crowd. Christophe has seen him around before—the skater must have participated in several qualifying rounds with Yuuri… was it at Rostelecom, maybe?

“Who’s that over there? Life of the party, don’t you think?”

“You mean the guy with the best eyebrows known to man? Lee Seung-gil. Korea. Age: 20. Height: one hundred and seventy centimeters,” Phichit answers automatically. “Instagram account is _seung-gillee_ , single hyphen.”

Chris whistles. “Are you sure you aren’t his personal fanclub president? You seem to know a lot about the guy,” he notes duly, to which the younger skater laughs uncertainly, choosing to suddenly invest a lot of focus into his live #Victuuri video montage.

“Don’t worry,” Christophe says, winking at Phichit before slipping on his shades. “I'm an expert in the field now. Leave it all up to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can blame everything on [this](http://mud-muffin.tumblr.com/post/155917646938/one-of-my-friends-mentioned-of-fun-it-would-be-if%20) legendary comic, for the record.


End file.
